The Sky is Endless
by everydaytimelord
Summary: A collection of stories featuring the two North American brothers. Family moments, love, hurt, and the daily dealings of being a country. Modern events and concepts will be the main theme of every story. More than open to accept new ideas, and will base some stories off of current events.
1. Tornado Chasers Part 1

Canada paced nervously near the border of his country, the one that met with the United States of America. The bridge connecting the two nations was named the "Peace Bridge", and he only smiled when he saw it. It was a reminder of the close bond he shared with his brother, and he knew nothing could take that bond away.

Canada stared down at his watch and paused for a moment to check his phone for any updates. None. No new texts or calls. He clicked on his weather app and frowned, then began to pace again when he saw that the storm was not going to be dying down anytime soon. It seemed to almost be following his brother's path, if Canada could believe in such a thing. Funny, the way the clouds moved sometimes. It almost seemed like they had a mind of their own. He scrolled down the page of the application and clicked on the radar, checking his watch again as it loaded, and glanced back down to the screen, only to be met with several alerts and warnings for the region he had focused on. He squinted at the screen, his glasses giving off a dull glare from the sun that was peeking out from behind the heavyset clouds hovering above him, and breathed in deeply to calm himself.

"He has done this before. Nothing to worry about," Canada spoke softly to no one in particular, and no one seemed to be paying him much attention. They knew who he was and why he was there, and they were skeptical at the idea, but no one would dare to tell him otherwise. He was a nation, after all. He represented everything his citizens stood for, and they trusted him, backed him in everything he did, no matter how trivial it seemed.

Canada turned to his car, where he had left it parked an hour ago, and sat down in his seat, his nerves making his legs feel weak. If his brother could do this, then so could he. Why was he so nervous? It's not like he has not encountered something like this before. And besides, it cannot hurt him, right? Only his economy can hurt him, and he was in fair economic standing, so no need to worry. It was only the fact that his brother was late. That had to be it. He's known for being late. It was in his nature at this point. But…

Canada took out his phone again, which he had shoved into his hoodie pocket, not wanting to look at it anymore, when he heard the screeching of tires and a few shouts of complaint. Canada smiled out of embarrassment when he saw the blue sports car roll up next to him and the shaded windows roll down to reveal a low bass theme from a song that was probably seconds prior blaring out of the speakers, and a bright white smile underneath messy blonde hair.

"Hey Mattie. Ready to head out? Storm's not gonna wait forever, you know," the United States of America reached over and unlocked the passenger door and pushed it open.

"You know," Canada started, slowly seating himself in the car, knowing full well that as soon as the door was shut, America would slam on the gas, "I was hoping we could take my car. It's a bit more reliable for the situation we are going to and-"

"No, Mattie, we need speed. I need speed. And this baby can give it to us," Alfred stroked the steering wheel lovingly, saying a few precious words to his car in a sickening baby voice.

"No, Alfred. We need something that will not slip on the ground, and can withstand the high winds and rain, and not only that, the sheer velocity of the-"

"Oh, don't you go getting all sciency on me and stuff. Whatever, we'll take your car. You have the cool gadgets equipt for this stuff anyhow, right, like I asked? Man, the NWS is gonna be so psyched when they hear about this one!" Alfred turned off his car and beeped the lock twice once Matthew made it out as well.

"This is only for the advancement of the research on tornadoes and tornadic activity. Luckily, we as nations have full service to the equipment that is used in that type of research. I am glad that you asked to to come along, Al." Canada walked over to his car and watched as Alfred pouted from the other side.

"You want to drive?" Canada less asked, and more just stated a general fact. America ran over to the other side of the car and took the keys.

"I cannot believe you are over 237 years old, and yet you still act like a child," Canada sighed as he plopped into the passenger seat and turned on his laptop, which tracked the local storms. He had it located on one that was going to be sweeping through most of Ohio and New York in the next few hours. They planned on catching it in Ohio, before it hit Lake Erie and turned up into Canada as just a simple rain storm. Canada had been tracking this storm for the past day and it seemed most promising. His stomach twisted into a few knots thinking about what they were about to do. 'I am only four hours away from facing down a tornado on purpose. Alfred's crazy must be spreading,' Canada thought nervously and touched the screen of his laptop, spreading his fingers out to single in on the spot they were heading to. The car had already started and was racing toward the gates from Canada to America. He always felt a strange thrill when leaving his own borders by car instead of by air. It just seemed so much more physical, as he could always pinpoint the exact moment he left his country and set foot onto a new territory. It just seemed different at ground level.

They made it through border control with ease, as they had a special clearance gate just for them, and then they were off. Canada felt his stomach fill with butterflies as he stared out over the water and watched the cars lined up to come into his country. His people, the ones he loved, coming home once again. Or perhaps some tourists, taking a day trip to see his beautiful landscapes or cities. He would never turn anyone down. The border control was heavily pushed by his government, and he had to accept it to make them happy.

Canada took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as they reached the high point of the bridge. This scene was always wonderful, but Canada simply wanted to revel in the feeling for a moment; the feeling of his country, for it would be gone soon. Canada opened his eyes and felt a sense of nostalgia wash over him as he heard his brother sigh next to him when they made it to the bottom of the bridge.

"Home sweet home," he heard his brother say, knowing exactly what he was feeling at the moment. Before them, Buffalo, NY loomed, causing Canada to long for his beautiful city of Toronto, just a hundred or so kilometers up the QEW, construction permitted. Alfred's cities just never seemed to compare to his own. 'But,' Canada thought, 'there really is no place like home.'

"Hey, bro," Alfred finally spoke up next to him, catching Canada off guard, "Wanna check those radars again? Wanna make sure I'm heading the right way. I can take I-90 all the way to Cleveland, then head south on I-77, or, I can-"

"Alfred, hold on one second. I'm trying to focus,"Canada cut Alfred off, sighing in annoyance, and he rolled his eyes when he heard his brother mutter a few unpleasant things under his breath. Canada scanned over the radar feeds in front of him and pulled up another tab he had been saving. "Alright, just," Canada punched in a few directions into the GPS that was stuck to the front of the window, "follow these and we should be there in no time."

"Not even giving me the challenge of having to navigate my own country? Not fun, bro. Ya know, next time we are going to a state with a better average. Tornadoes might pop up around here sometimes, but the really goods ones happen more to the west and south. I've totally watched all of the documentaries and stuff, and if we really wanna get good footage, we have to-"

"I know, Alfred, but this is the best we could do with our short schedules. I was already in Toronto for a meeting, and you were in New York for… I don't know, but, either way, this is the only storm we have time to see together."

"You know, bro, we work too hard nowadays. I remember the good times when we would be able to spend hours on end just staring at the clouds, or contemplating world domination."

"That was only you, Al."

"Yeah, but, think about it, Matt, the whole world as America! How cool would that be?"

"Only if I was still allowed to eat things that were not deep fried," Canada sighed, already tired of the conversation he knew was about to ensue.

"Hey, fried bubblegum is good. You can't diss it til you try it," America shot back, a wry grin spreading across his face, knowing Canada hated this argument. It was simple brotherly banter, and Alfred only brought it up because of how annoyed it made Matthew. Canada stared out the window, obviously trying his best to ignore his brother, but sighed and stared back down at his computer screen then up at the GPS.

"This better be worth spending four hours in a car with you," Canada looked over at the American, who let a wide grin slowly spread over his face as the speedometer suddenly began to steadily rise.

"Oh, four hours you say? We'll see about that," America said, a challenge in his voice, and Canada buckled his seatbelt, closed his laptop and fisted his hand in his jeans. This was going to be a fun day.

* * *

><p>"Oh, come on, that is not a fair argument for my education system," America whined while Canada pulled up yet another fact about a few of the local colleges in his own country.<p>

"You do realize that teenagers coming out of highschool do not have the funds necessary to take up a proper education in your country, and yet an average college tuition at a public university costs about $12,000 a semester? Not only are my tuitions costs significantly lower, the gover- hey, radar is picking up something new." Canada's boiling passive-aggression was switched out when his laptop suddenly picked up a warning on his radar. America leaned over to get a look, but glued his eyes back on the road when the car swerved a bit out of the white line and he hit gravel.

"What is it Mattie? What do your elf eyes see?" America joked then flinched when he saw a flash of lightening in the distance in front of him.

"You need to stay away from your own pop culture a bit, and it looks like an F-3 tornado has touched down near Akron. We will be passing through there in twenty minutes or so. I think we should change our direction to a bit more to the east and catch the side of it. The way the clouds are developing here and here," Canada pointed to the spots in the screen, and Alfred glanced over to see what he was pointing at, "have a higher rotation than the rest of the storm. This," Canada dragged his hand across his screen, creating an invisible line on the monitor, "is where the current tornado is." Canada looked up from the screen when he saw flashes of lightning out of the corner of his eye. He looked out the window and his stomach twisted into nervous knots. The clouds here were a darker shade than the rest, almost black, and Canada might not be the recipient of as many tornadoes as the United States, but he knew when he saw one, and he could feel that they were close.

After a few minutes of silence, a siren in the distance broke the brothers out of their reveries. Alfred glanced nervously at Matthew and gave him a tight smile.

"Ready for this?" he asked, feigning his worry for an eager calm. Canada swallowed thickly and nodded, not wanting his voice to betray him. He looked back down at his screen again, and audibly gulped when he saw the dark red clouds surrounded by a shaded in red box on the screen was directly above them. Maybe 'fun' was saying too much. This day was going to be terrifying.

"I suppose," Canada tried to swallow, but his throat had dried up, and his eyes were busy following the clouds. After a few minutes of silence, the brothers heard another siren go off in the distance.

"Think I should follow it?" Alfred asked, then jumped when he began to hear heavy pelting on the car. His knuckles became white when the hail slamming into the car began to grow in size and frequency, causing tiny dents to begin appearing on the windshield.

"Al, take this side street here!" Matthew yelled over the raucous caused by the almost marble-sized hail.

"What?!"

"Al, turn here!"

"Bro, you gotta speak up. I can't-"

"I said here!" Canada reached over and took hold of the steering wheel just long enough to make a sharp turn to the left, just barely avoiding a large branch that had fallen from a nearby tree in the road.

"Woah, Mattie, I'm driving. You're navigating. Let me do my-"

"What?!"

"Oh, never mind," Alfred puffed, then jumped yet again when the windshield suddenly shattered. Alfred swerved a few times, then hit a telephone pole off the side of the road. The airbags deployed and left the two brothers dazed and bruised.

"Augh! Dammit. Mattie! Hey, bro, are you okay?! I'm so sorry! I promise, I'll-"

"Glad to see you're fine as well," Matthew sighed and pushed the airbag out of his face, then pushed open the passenger door and fell out. Alfred came out shortly after. Canada walked around the car to meet America on the other side, then became acutely aware of his surroundings. America felt it next, knowing all too well what it felt like to be in the epicenter of mother nature.

"Bro, I sure hope that camera still works, 'cause we're about to get some pretty sick footage," Alfred said quietly, staring up at the rotating sky and watched as the wind picked up on the surrounding trees. The calm before the storm. Alfred knew of this all too well. Tornadoes did not hurt as much as they used to, but he had never truly been in the middle of one before. He did not have an interest until all of those storm chasing shows began popping up everywhere. Now look where they are. In the dead center of a storm, without their cool gadgets and no way out. Hopefully mother nature was merciful today.

Alfred's wish was wiped away when the rotating in the clouds a mile in front of them began to intensify and the direction of the wind changed drastically.

"Al, I think," Canada began, having to raise his voice over the sudden freight train sound coming from directly in front of them, "I think we should find a place to hide."

"And miss out on why we came here? Not a chance," Alfred yelled over the winds and opened the back door of the car to fish out the recorder they brought. He was glad to see it undamaged, unlike all of the other equipment they brought.

"Al," Canada stared at the menacing shape that now loomed before them, "Al, we need to leave!" But his twin was having none of it. He was a nation after all, and he could not be hurt by a mere pinprick on his giant map. He never let nature win before. He was not about to let it win now.

"What do you think it is, Mattie? An F-3 again?"

"We shouldn't be this close! The wind is beginning to blow around-" Matthew ducked out of the way for a piece of fencing and yelped when another, much smaller piece hit his leg, "There is too much debris! Al, we need to get underground! This is not-"

"Don't worry, bro! The hero will protect you!" Alfred shouted cockily as he hit record on the camcorder. Another piece of fencing and parts of branches from nearby trees began to whip by. The tornado then finally hit the ground, the dirt and grass seemingly coming up to meet it in a giant, twisting dust storm. Then, it changed directions. The winds began to blow directly into the two nation's faces.

"It's changing direction, Al! It's coming right for us!" Matthew nearly screamed next to Alfred, but the other seemed oblivious to the warnings, entranced by the sheer destructive power of the force of nature in front of him. Then he began to walk towards it.

"Wh- No! Alfred, didn't you hear me?! I said we should-"

"No, bro, look at it. It's just so… raw. I have to get closer. It's for science and stuff," Alfred yelled back, his attention fully on the gathering winds converging before his eyes. The tornado now loomed half a mile away, and the wind velocity was simply too much to handle. Canada cursed as he was pelted with more debris and wished he were somewhere safer. America simply did not seem to notice the welts that were steadily showing up on his arms and face as small rocks and twigs slammed into him.

"Look! It reminds me of that bottle trick the kids do in school. I wonder what the inside looks like?" Alfred pondered, while Matthew began to panic as the tornado slowly drew closer. He knew from studying that they were way too close. One mile is too close, and this thing was less than half a mile away. Canada steeled himself as another large branch brushed past him, ripping away a chunk of his sleeve and leaving deep cuts in his arm. He was being pushed back by the full force of the wind as he pushed forward and grabbed his twin's sleeve. He tugged on it, moving Alfred's arm by only inches, his strength not anywhere near his brother's and his battle with the wind a losing one.

"Al! Please! We have to get back to the car! Or under-" Canada pushed his brother forward with his whole body and moved him in time to avoid the electrical wires from the telephone pole they hit. "Al! Oh," Canada huffed and stood in front of the camera, making Alfred glare at him angrily.

"Mattie, a little bit of nature cannot hurt us! I'm too strong! I told you, I'll prote-"

"Is this protecting, Alfred?!" Matthew showed Alfred his arm, which was now bleeding steadily and soaking into his hoodie. Alfred frowned and looked back up at the tornado that was gaining ground every second. Then, making up his mind, shut the camcorder, grabbed his brother, and headed off to the side of the road, where, thankfully, a ditch had been carved into for water drainage. Alfred pushed his brother in first, looked back at the swirling vortex behind him, then jumped in after him.

"Hands over head, Mattie! Fetal position! I'm stronger, so I'll be on top!" Alfred shouted over the storm, and Matthew followed his instructions without hesitation. Alfred pulled his jacket over his and his brother's head, then waited. The wind around them picked up immensely, then, silence. Or, at least what he thought was silence. Alfred, out of curiosity, looked up, and gasped at the sight before him. Lightning, winds, debris, all swirling dangerously above him, like a beautiful dance, but one that could end in blood and destruction. His glasses were pulled off of his face and he closed his eyes, pulling the jacket back over their heads and waiting for it to be over.

The winds picked back up and the boys were pelted with all forms of debris. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the wind died down again, and Alfred lifted himself carefully off of his brother. He touched his back, which was covered in mud and cuts, and groaned when he thought about having to clean that out later. He tapped Canada's shoulder, and Matthew tensed, then let his hands fall from the back of his neck. He stared up at Alfred, his glasses crooked and his face covered in a thick layer of mud. Then, everything seemed to finally dawn on them both and they began to laugh. The United States of America and Canada laughed for all it was worth, knowing full well they just faced down and lived through what not many would ever experience. And they both prayed no one else would ever have to go through this. Tears began running down each twin's face, leaving small streaks in place of the mud that coated both from head to toe.

After both calmed down a bit, Alfred began to search for something. Canada, finally gaining enough composure to speak, asked him what he could possibly be looking for.

"My camcorder. I bet it has some sick footage on it!" Alfred said excitedly, searching through the debris and mud. Canada picked himself up and walked out into the middle of the road where they were standing before the tornado swept through. He bent down and dug through a few branches, then noticed a red light, beeping on and off.

"Hey, Al!" Canada called to his brother as he picked up the camcorder, miraculously unharmed, and dusted off the leaves that stuck to it. Alfred ran over and grabbed it out of his hands, raising it to the sky and cheering for all the world to hear. He opened it up, and turned the camera on Canada, who was caught unaware and scowled at his brother.

"Alfred, I don't think this is the best time for that," Canada huffed, annoyed, but also in a light-hearted mood after their close call.

"Mattie, come on! Smile for the camera! You will be famous after this. Now-"

"Al, I already am famous."

"Tell all your adoring fans. How do you feel?"

"Like I need a shower and some ibuprofen," Canada sighed and looked over at the car, which was no longer where they had left it. Canada brought his hand up to run through his hair when the realization dawned on him that he no longer had any form of communication with his country, and they were, essentially, in the middle of nowhere.

"Woah, hey, car's gone," Alfred said, swinging the camera around to zoom in on the empty location that once held a totalled car, "Cool."

"Not cool, Al. Not when I tell my finance manager how I wrecked and lost a car. Again," Canada sighed and squatted down to the ground, rubbing a clear spot in the muddy road.

Alfred did one more quick monologue, and hit the record button, to stop. Then he hit the playback button and found the latest footage. He hit play and watched as the street they were standing on came into view, dark looming clouds off in distance.

"Mattie, this has got to be the coolest stuff ever. I am so making a movie out of this. What do you think it should be called? 'Facedown with Mother Nature: the Tale of Two Nations'? How does that sound? Man, this is so cool!"

"Yeah… I guess it is, Al. Just, next time listen to me when I say we're about to die," Matthew sighed and rubbed at his temples, exhaustion setting in. He stood up, took his glasses off and rubbed them with whatever clean part of his hoodie was left available as he listened to Alfred whooping at the camcorder of the 'awesome and cool' footage they were able to catch. He shoved his glasses back on, not getting anywhere with them, and smiled. It was fun to hang out with his brother sometimes, even when life and death are not involved. Maybe they would do this again sometime. But now, he needed a shower.

* * *

><p>"Yo, bro, come over here! Check this out!" America flipped his touchscreen phone horizontally and held it out in front of him so his brother could see it as well. Canada pursed his lips and adjusted his glasses as he leaned down next to his brother and sighed when he saw the heading of the video.<p>

"You know," Canada sighed, "You could give the whole tornado thing a break for a minute or something. You still have dirt in your back."

Both nations were exhausted from their trek back to one of America's homes. Thankfully, he had one in every state, and he had one conveniently located in Summit county, close to where they had crashed. Canada had yet to get in contact with his government since the crash and close call with nature, but he decided it'd be best they did not know for now.

"Bro, come on. I'm sorry I got sucked into it… almost literally, let me remind you, but I want you to at least see this video. It's just going over the storm. It says it didn't harm anyone. I just thought you'd want to know," America stared at the screen of his phone for a few seconds in silence, then stared back at his brother who had not moved from next to him, then took his glasses and smiled mischievously.

"Al!" Canada whined, reaching for his glasses, but his brother evaded him and Canada yelped when he fell onto the chair America had been sitting on a moment before.

"We need to get you some new glasses," Alfred stated, having put the glasses on and noticing all of the tiny scratches and dents.

"Yeah, but I still use them to see. But… I guess you can borrow them for a while. You are more blind than me after all," Canada shrugged, and America smiled, catching Matthew's passive-aggressive undertone.

"You know, this movie is going to be the best movie ever. It's going to get, like, ten billion dollars at the box office and stuff," Alfred said, changing the conversation. Canada went back to where he had been leafing through the first aid kit Alfred had in his house and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm growing on the idea of making a movie. It took a little while to get over the whole 'almost getting swept into a tornado thing', but now I can see the cinematic pleasure that could come from a near death experience." Alfred grinned, deciding to take his brother's words at face value and ignoring the heavy sarcasm.

"So, you wanna help me? I know your country isn't known for it's movies and stuff, and I have the big old Hollywood, but, it would be great brother time. We could even get ol' Iggy and the frog in on it if you wanna?"

"Hold still," was all Canada answered as he walked over with a damp cloth and a bottle of disinfectant.

"Oh, no," America said shortly, backing away from his brother who was now smiling a perfect copy of America's mischievous smile from a minute before.


	2. Polar Vortex Part 1

New year, new experiences, same brother. Canada sat in his living room, staring at the fire on a bitter cold morning. It was a few days after the new year, and his family had come to visit. He had hosted the party this year, and it was so much fun seeing them all together again, being able to relax and drink without worrying about deadlines and world affairs. But now, the festivities were over and Canada sat with a hot cup of coffee to chase away the remaining feelings of slumber pulling him back. He stared into the fire, set at the front of his living room, and listened to the silence. This, however, bothered him. Canada looked at the clock in his kitchen, saw the time to be about 9 am, and pushed himself from the couch to go check on his brother.

America had decided to stay with his 'awesome brother' for the remaining two weeks of his vacation, and Canada was more than happy to have the company. However, the absence of America's snoring from the other room worried him. The other nation's sleeping habits were similar to Canada's, and they usually woke up around the same time. Canada had been awake for an hour now, trying to warm up, but not succeeding, and simply grabbing a drink to warm him from the inside.

"Al?" Canada asked, peeking his head inside of Alfred's bedroom door, which had been left ajar. Matthew pushed the door fully open when he received no response and stepped into the room. The room was a bit messy, a few objects thrown about and clothing littering the floor. Matthew could not help but smile at the memory of when he lived with his brother all those years ago and he would have to share this mess with him. Canada turned his attention to the giant lump on the bed, and noticed that it was moving.

"Alfred, I can see that you're awake. You're lack of loud snoring is indication enough," Canada said, walking up to his brother and pulling back the covers, only to find another blanket covering the shaking lump on the bed. He pulled the second blanket off and found his brother, wearing his winter jacket and snow pants, and shaking like an autumn leaf in the wind.

"Al, are you alright?" Matthew asked, suddenly worried for his brother. Alfred, after a moment of trying to compose himself, but to no avail, pulled down the hood of his jacket and pushed himself from the bed, sitting back to look groggily at his brother.

"G-g-g-g-goodmornin', b-bro," Alfred stuttered out, his shaking intensifying as he lost his bubble of warmth he had created while under the blankets. "What-t-t's up?"

"I didn't think it was this cold in here? Come sit with me by the fire," Canada offered, then noticed Alfred's eyes had focused onto his cup of coffee. "Here, you can have it. I'll make another." Canada waited until America pushed himself from the bed and stood shakily next to him, then handed him the coffee. Alfred held it gently, then lifted it to take a sip, but his shivering caused it to spill on the way up and Alfred cursed under his breath, handing it back to Canada.

"I-I'll make my own," Alfred struggled to speak without shaking, but it became harder with each passing minute.

"You never answered my first question, Al," Matthew said, staring at his brother with newfound concern, Alfred never being one to turn down a cup of coffee, and his shivering seemingly nonstop.

"Y-y-ye-a-ah. Why d-did you ask?" Alfred grabbed the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around himself, then shuffled out the doorway and to the fire in the living room. Canada followed slowly behind, watching his brother's slow, careful movements, and walked over to the kitchen to make a second cup of coffee to warm his brother. Even from afar, he could see his brother's perpetual shaking. Canada shivered, too, after pouring the cup of coffee and adding in the right amount of sugar and cream that his brother likes. Canada was cold, too, but he was used to it at this time of year. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to check the weather, though, to see if it wasn't something country-related causing them both to feel like Jack Frost was personally torturing them.

Canada walked over to the fire and sat down next to Alfred, handing him the new cup of coffee as soon as he was situated.

"G-geez. It f-f-f-ee-eels like the cold is ev-verywhere," Alfred stumbled over his words as he stared at the fire, trying to feels its warmth, but the cold inside of him seemed too persistent. After a minute of silence, only broken by the sound of Alfred's teeth clicking together from shivering and the fire, did Canada reach over and feel his brother's forehead.

"W-w-what are you doing, bro?" Alfred asked, but did not push his brother away.

"Well, I can't really tell if you're colder than me or not. I heard something the other day that the polar vortex was going to come back and-"

"Not that again," Alfred groaned, and fell onto his back, curling himself into a fetal position to try to get warm. "The last time it came through in D-december, I got a head cold for a w-week. You remember. I was w-with you. Those snowstorms s-s-s-ucked," Alfred mumbled under the blanket he had wrapped around himself, covering his head.

"Yeah, they were not fun," Canada remembered, and was not looking forward to a repeat of what happened last time. Matthew was not as worried about it as Alfred was, however. Canada had always been more resilient when it came to cold weather, and the polar winds and snow were not new the the Canadian. They did, however, affect Alfred much harder, his core being closer to the equator and his people not being used to such extreme temperatures and weather.

After another few minutes of almost silence, Canada pushed himself from the floor and walked over to the counter where he had left his smartphone charging. He shivered in the cold air that was far from the fire and unlocked the phone to see a special news report pop up from the weather app. He opened the application and groaned when he saw the temperatures and prediction for the next week. He scrolled through the story, and walked back to his brother, who had not moved from his spot on the floor, and sat down in front of the fire again.

"So? What is it M-Mattie?" Alfred pulled the blankets from his head and stared up at his brother, wordlessly demanding to know whatever his brother now knew.

"It says that the polar vortex is back and-"

"Great. Here comes another head cold," Alfred groaned.

"It says that temperatures will be reaching well into the negatives for the next few days, not including wind chill. Your country is thinking about issuing a state of emergency in a few major cities already," Canada leaned back on his free hand and continued to scroll through the story, then closed the app and shivered, just thinking about how cold it was going to get tonight and tomorrow making him want to lie down in the fire and sleep the two days away.

"S-s-so, you know how t-t-to deal with this, right, bro?" Alfred said from his huddled up ball of blankets.

"Yeah, you stay by a fire and keep as warm as possible until it passes. This part of being a country is not fun. Weather is completely out of our control," Matthew sighed and set down his phone, opting to simply stare at the fire and will its warmth to encompass him, but knew nothing would warm him at this point. He pulled his legs up, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on his knees and prepared himself for the worst.

* * *

><p>The day passed relatively quietly, the brothers playing a few board games lying around the house and staying close to the fire. Hot cocoa was a staple for the two over the day, and they made dinner and drank cocoa by the fire that night. Alfred had set his full plate down and became quiet over the past hour, the sun having set over an hour ago.<p>

"Al, are you alright? You're awfully quiet," Matthew asked, and frowned when he did not receive a response. "Alfred?" Canada moved from his place near the fire and sat down right next to his brother, who had not moved, not even shivering, which had been persistent throughout the day. Alfred sat, staring at the fire, until Canada touched his arm, which he finally took his eyes from the gentle crackling in front of him to look at his brother. Canada put his hand on his brother's forehead, just like that morning, and pursed his lips when he could not feel a temperature difference between them. His brother had always been much warmer than Canada, and for them to feel the same temperature now scared him, knowing full well his brother was not used to this sort of weather affecting such a large portion of his population at once. Canada slowly pushed himself from the ground and went over to the bathroom on the other side of the living room. In there he gathered a few supplies, including a heated blanket and thermometer, and walked back, dropping the supplies in front of him and his brother.

"Al, can you hear me?" Matthew asked gently, grabbing his brother's arm again and shaking it, trying to illicit a response.

"Bro, what're you doing?" Alfred asked, his words seeming to slur together.

"Alfred, can you open your mouth, please?" Matthew asked, then placed the thermometer in Alfred's mouth once he finally responded.

"Mattie, I'm fine," Alfred mumbled around the thermometer, staring into the fire. Canada waited for the thermometer to beep, then pulled it out and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Thirty-one," Matthew said aloud, reading off the numbers then stuck the thermometer into his own mouth to get a comparison. He turned on the heated blanket while waiting, and threw it over his brother. When the thermometer beeped, he pulled it out and saw that he was much warmer than his brother, at 34.5 Celsius. His fingers must be freezing for him to think his brother was the same temperature. He wondered about this for a minute until he remembered all of the other snowstorms, and how his brother could not handle them as well as the snow warn brother could. _Alfred's country must be getting hit hard tonight, _Matthew thought, then was pulled out of his thoughts as he saw his brother pull off the blanket and began work on pulling off his jacket as well.

"Al, what are you doing?"

"I'm too hot," Al muttered, then began working on his hoodie, until Matthew grabbed Alfred's hand and pulled the blanket back over him.

"No, Al, you're cold. I know that for a fact. You have hypothermia, and taking off the only things warming you is not going to help," Matthew said, matter-of-factly, watching Alfred until the other sighed and pulled his legs in, wrapping one arm around them, the other hand reaching out for the mug of cocoa from earlier. Matthew painfully watched his brother as he shakily reached for the mug and missed, then, with a frustrated huff of air, tried again, only to miss and give up.

"I'll go make some tea. You stay here by the fire until I get back," Canada said, then stood up and walked into the kitchen. He rummaged through the cupboards for the special tea that England had left for them, and heard Alfred's phone buzz. He looked over into the living room and saw Alfred fumble with the phone for a few seconds before finally answering it.

"Hello? Yeah… fine," Canada listened to the one-sided conversation and remembered that he had left the tea in the storage closet in the back of the house. He shut the cupboards and listened to Alfred asking about the power outages in a few cities before he made his way down the hallway and through the family room with the Christmas tree. _I should probably take that down soon,_ Canada thought as he finally found the closet at the back of the room and began rummaging around for the special tea. He found the small box a minute later hiding under a few other boxes filled with tiny presents from his holiday parties and opened it up to smell the sweet herbs inside. Canada smiled and shut the closet door, then made his way back to the living room. Once he reached the hallway, however, he noticed that something was wrong. The air was colder than it was a few minutes ago. Canada hurried his pace and upon entering the living room, found out what the problem was. He walked over to the front door, which was wide open, and dropped the tea when he looked back and found his brother nowhere to be seen. _You have got to be kidding me, _Canada thought as he grabbed his coat, threw on his boots and ran out the door. _I was only gone for a few minutes. Where could he have possibly gone in that time. _He wished he had brought Kuma with him to the cabin, but the bear wanted to stay at home this year, not enjoying the loud parties that Canada's relatives always threw.

Canada searched the ground for any kind of footprints, but the wind was blowing hard and covering up any tracks that would have been made.

"Alfred!" Matthew yelled into the strong winds, but his voice was carried away like the snow. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and made his way over to Alfred's car, which seemed to have remained untouched.

"Dammit!" Matthew kicked the car, and groaned as the wind pushed up under his jacket, causing him to lose whatever warmth he had. He began trudging up a hill that overlooked his house and used it as a vantage point, to see if he can find any trace of his brother. Canada reached the top, struggling over the ice that seemed to coat everything, and saw a flash of light in the trees in front of his house. He ran over to the object and gingerly picked it up, knowing immediately that it was America's phone. Canada flinched when the phone began to buzz in his hands and he answered it, putting the frozen object up to his ear.

"America?" The voice on the other end asked, hints of worry coming through the phone.

"No, this is Canada. Do you know where he is?"

"You don't know where he is? In this weather? Are you outside?"

"Yes, and he ran out here somewhere. Now, where did he go?" Canada's voice began to rise at the last sentence, anger beginning to boil over into his words.

"I-I don't know," the man on the other end stammered, "I was updating him on the current state of the country, so he wouldn't worry, and he said he was coming, and then he hung up. I don't know anything else, really!"

"Okay, okay. Thank you for the explanation. I'll find him," Canada reassured, not wanting the other man to panic that his country just ran off during one of the coldest nights on record.

"Thank you. I'll tell the representa-"

"Not yet. We do not need to create any unnecessary worry. I'm sending you an address. If you don't hear back from me in an hour, send help here." And with that, Canada hung up the phone and, after texting the address, put it away in an inner jacket pocket, hoping it wouldn't freeze in the negative temperatures.

"Dammit, Alfred," Matthew hissed under his breath, shivering and shoving his hands in his pockets, hoping he would not get frostbite. He already could not feel his feet and fingers, and he knew from experience how fast the frigid cold will take victims. And hypothermia was not something to be reckoned with. Canada had seen the warning signs early enough, but had left his brother unattended when his symptoms had reached a high point. The symptom Matthew had not expected to show up quite yet was disorientation. Perhaps being told of what the country was going through made his overall health worse, as he become more aware, or less aware, of how serious the weather truly was. At least if he died, it would only be temporarily, but the scars would stay.

"Why couldn't you have been sensible enough to wear some shoes," Canada muttered, anger temporarily overcasting his worry as he went headlong into the wind. He needed to find his brother soon. Even if they were countries, the elements still affected them like humans, and frostbite was unforgiving.

After what seemed like hours in the harsh environment, the phone inside Canada's pocket went off again. Canada took his hands out of his pockets, and fumbled with the zipper of his coat, trying and failing to open it, his hands not responding to him anymore. He tried flexing his hands, and they barely moved, the appendages a bright red and freezing cold. He shoved them back in their pockets and blinked a few times to try and get his bearings. He left his glasses back at the house, and could not see well in the dark. It was a miracle in its own that he saw his brother's phone off in the distance. He tried calling for his brother again, having not done so in about twenty minutes, and realized his voice would not work. Canada knew well what hypothermia looked and felt like, and immediately the realization dawned on him that he was in as real danger as his brother was. The Canadian pulled out his frozen hands and worked to pull down the zipper on his jacket again, working it down far enough for him to reach in a grasp the phone. He pulled it out and tried unlocking it, but lost his grip on it and it fell to the ground, hitting the ice and snow that blanketed everything in sight. After a minute of staring at the phone, it began to vibrate again. Canada leaned down, trying to grab it, and slipped on the thick ice, hitting the ground hard and pushing the phone a few feet out of his reach.

_The snow is kind of warm,_ Canada thought as he lay on the ground, snow and wind blowing harshly into his face. Canada had the passing thought of trying to push himself back up off the ground, but his body would not respond to him. He felt as if he should have been more concerned than he was at this, but the thought was cast off in favor of a seemingly better sounding thought to his rapidly failing mind; sleep. Matthew felt panic well up, the feeling all too familiar, his experience and common sense finally overriding his concern for his brother. He was going to freeze to death out here. But at least the snow was warm, the passing thought coming back once more before he let his consciousness fade.


	3. Autumn Glory

It was hard to describe, and really, did he need to? He could feel the cool weather begin to settle in and the vague sense of calm that came with the beginning of the season, but there was this certain feeling, this utter sense of peace, that he could not seem to be able to put into words.

America looked out over his land and took in a deep breath, enjoying every second he had alone in this beautiful landscape. It was September, and that meant that summer was coming to a quick end. Alfred let his gaze drift to the sky and traced patterns in the clouds. They covered the whole sky today, threatening a drizzle later, but for now, the clouds created a wonderful portrait for any who looked up. The darker gray mixed with the lighter tones and set a pristine backdrop for the trees that were just beginning to show the true colors of Autumn.

It was hard to decide which season was his favorite, sometimes. It changed with the year. There was always something wonderful about every season, and he remembered what they were when that time came, and he was reminded of the beauty of nature and the gift of family. But this one time of the year, the time when the world is ablaze with color and the cool serenity of the changing season, Alfred truly enjoyed, and he knew that this would always be his favorite season.

Alfred let his mind wander back to when he was younger, back to the days where he was truly more free from duties and the world did not pressure him into a meeting every other day. Back when everyone was either a farmer, or a politician. Or, at least, that's what he usually only remembered seeing in those days. He would work on a farm, sometimes his own, sometimes a neighbor's. He would work all summer to keep up with the growing crops and then go into town in the evenings to do some paperwork before heading back to his large southern-style farmhouse. It was after summer, however, where the best memories came back. When the work was finished and the crops were harvested, and the children played freely in the cool sun and made dolls and forts with the falling leaves. Sometimes he would join the children, still being quite young himself, but work would always pull him away from the fun.

The times alone were the times he cherished the most. He would sit for hours just staring at the landscape, his landscape, and watch the leaves color the chill breeze. The feeling was always hard to place. He felt… right. It felt like home, and now that Alfred looked back on it, he remembered how at ease he was with the world back then. No pressuring world meetings, no needing to be a world leader, no real dangers lurking in the shadows, waiting for him to make one wrong move. Just, the still peace that comes with Autumn. And as he stared out over the fields of corn and soybeans, outlined by the wonderful maples and oaks of this area, he could not help but hope that this moment never ended.


	4. Polar Vortex Part 2

Author's note:

Hey guys! Sorry I didn't say anything the first three chapters. Anyhow, like the descriptions says, this is a bunch of different stories I have written for the North American brothers. I like to keep each story as realistic and close to current world events as I can, so each story is essentially dated with casual references. All have happened in the past year or so, so no having to do major research.

I have a good amount of stories right now, but my ideas come at random, and recently I have been struggling to write more. So, one of my goals is to write for you guys, not for my own amusement. If there is something you want me to cover, or a story you think I'd be good at writing, throw it at me. I'd be more than happy to take up the challenge.

Anyhow, I will be updating every few days, although I won't be updating the stories in order. Also, if a story is offending, or I portrayed it wrong, please tell me so I can fix it. Thanks, and enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Sir….hear me?"<p>

"...get him...warm…."

_I feel so warm, _Canada's jumbled, sluggish thoughts began to connect as he struggled to open his eyes.

"I think he's trying to wake up," a distant voice called. Canada worked to move his hands, his fingers, his toes, anything. He couldn't feel his body.

_Maybe I'm dead, _Canada thought idly as he let unconsciousness consume him once more.

* * *

><p>"Al…" Canada mumbled, trying to understand what was going on around him. His thoughts came slowly, and his body was mostly numb, with a slow, throbbing pain radiating from his head. He let himself think for a few minutes, trying to recall what was going on. His thoughts all mixed together as he heard something that seemed off in the distance draw near to him.<p>

"Sir, are you awake?" A voice above him asked, and Canada wanted to open his eyes, move, move his fingers, nod his head, anything that gave an answer.

"Alfred…" Canada managed to finally say, knowing that this name was important, but forgetting why.

"Alfred?" The voice asked, and another voice, even farther away, answered.

"His brother. We got the call in from an american official saying these two would be out here. So far, though, there's only one."

"No signs of him anywhere?"

"No. But, considering how much time has passed, I'm not sure he'll be alive anymore. Not in this cold."

Of course! His brother! Canada wanted to yell, to tell them that Alfred was fine, just to find him, but his numb lips would not move anymore and his sluggish mind begged for more sleep. Canada forced himself to stay awake for a few minutes longer, only listening to a low rumbling and the two voices, until everything became silent again.

* * *

><p>"...have Matthew Williams. Vitals low, but working. Alfred Jones found half a kilometer from the house. No vital signs, beginning warming process."<p>

Canada worked to open his eyes, needing to know where he was and who was speaking.

"...are you…" Matthew tried, his mind still sluggish and his words slurred together.

"Sir, try to stay awake. We need to warm you."

"Who are you?" Matthew tried again, finally able to form a full sentence. His head began a slow, painful rhythm as his thoughts began to catch up.

"My name is Daniel. I'm treating you for hypothermia and frostbite."

"Where's... Alfred?"

"Your brother is safe. You need to worry about yourself right now. Try to stay awake." Upon hearing about his brother, his lethargic thoughts finally caught up and his eyes shot open. Canada began to struggle to sit up, but was unable to move any part of his body.

_Where am I Where's Alfred It's so cold I want to sleep I need to find Alfred. _

"Matthew," a strong hand pushed gently on Matthew's shoulder until the Canadian finally stopped trying to move. "You need to not move, Matthew. You had no vital signs for over an hour and your body is in shock. You need to relax."

"I-I'm fine," Canada said, trying to regain his composure. "I want to see my brother." Canada finally focused his thoughts and looked at the young man next to him. He did not answer for a minute, and Canada began to think that he did not hear him, until Daniel gave Canada back his attention and sighed.

"Not yet," he said, then stood up and walked out of Canada's sight.

_No, I need to see Alfred, _Canada thought, his mind speeding up until he finally thought to look at his surroundings. He heard a gentle fire somewhere off to his right and the man, Daniel, and a woman speaking somewhere to his left. He tried moving his head, and succeeded in moving it towards where the two voices were. Not far from him was what seemed like a large blanket wrapped around something. Canada thought for a second and finally came to the logical conclusion.

"Al," Canada whispered, then struggled once again to sit up. After a moment he found that he could not move his arms or legs, and he looked down to see himself wrapped snug in a blanket, similar to his brother. He felt no warmth from the blanket. He worked to wriggle his fingers, but found them immovable, just as much as the rest of his body.

"Is he alive?" Canada asked, still struggling to move anything at all, and stopped when Daniel came back over, a stern frown across his face and his eyes filled with something Canada recognized all too well.

"You just came back from the dead. You need to worry about yourself. We'll take care of your brother," Daniel answered, rather harshly, and Matthew finally noticed just how tired the poor man looked.

"I'm sorry. I'm fine, really. Just, tell me if he's alive and I'll be still," Canada insisted, trying to find out anything that could put his mind to rest.

"He's," Daniel looked over at the mass of blankets to Canada's side a few feet away, and shook his head, "He's not showing any signs of life at the moment. I'm surprised he's not frozen solid. The frostbite did some pretty terrible damage, if he ever recovers. Same with you," Daniel turned back to Canada, who had become silent and stared up at the ceiling, eyes glazing over as the facts were dropped on him, one by one, like bricks.

"Matthew, your frostbite is extensive. I thought you were dead when I found you, too. I can only thank the heavens you were alive. I've seen too much else tonight to keep my hope going for much longer. As soon as the ambulance is able to make it out here, we're shipping you to the nearest hospital."

"And Alfred?" Matthew urged, hoping that he would simply nod, but the silence stretched out for a while before Daniel answered.

"We'll have to wait and see." Daniel stood up and walked out of Canada's sight, leaving him to his thoughts until he did not feel the need to stay conscious any longer and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

><p>"Papa…." Matthew yawned, starting to pull his hand out to cover his mouth, but could not escape the warm embrace. Matthew pulled harder, trying to free himself, and opened his eyes, trying to gain his senses. Canada gave one last pull, using whatever strength he had, and finally lifted his arms free of whatever prison they were held in. He sat up, far too quickly, and watched black dots dance in his vision, until, slowly, they dispersed. Matthew looked down at his free appendages and grimaced, a stray thought passing of them looking like a mummy. He noticed something coming out of his right arm and followed the clear tube, trying to figure out what it was. After he focused on the tube, he could almost feel whatever was being put into him. It felt… warm. And it was making him drowsy, keeping his thoughts at the turtle pace they had finally settled on. He followed the tube up and saw it attached to a clear bag, and finally came to the conclusion that he was in a hospital. Or a clinic. Canada glanced around at the other objects in the room, and found the room to be almost haphazardly put together. Next to his makeshift bed, he found the one thing he did not expect to want to see immediately. His brother lay, covered in blankets and bandages, a clear tube coming out of his arm as well. Matthew grimaced at the sight of him, whatever parts that were visible outside of the blanket, which included only the arm with the IV and his head, were wrapped loosely in gauze. Canada reached over to touch his brother, as if to make sure he was real, but pulled back at the last second, afraid that if he touched him, he would shatter like glass.<p>

"Al?" Matthew whispered, his voice rough and his lips seemingly frozen solid, almost unable to form proper words.

"He's out cold," Matthew flinched at the voice coming from behind him, and his heart fluttered when he realized who it was.

"Arthur, I thought you were going back to England?" Matthew slowly turned his gaze away from his brother and made eye contact with England, who had found Matthew's words as an invitation to sit on his makeshift bed with him. England's eyes dropped down to Alfred, and his usual frown graced his features.

"No," England finally answered after a minute of silence, and he pushed a hand through his messy hair, "I stopped at my embassy for a few days, finishing some official work while I was here. My scheduled flight was cancelled due to a snowstorm back home, but I thank the heavens for it or else I would not have been able to help you two nitwits. What were you thinking, going out in a storm like that?" England's tone went from tired to sharp and scowling and Matthew stared at the blanket covering him instead of meeting England's eyes again.

"You know, you were in real danger out there. Alfred died out there, but thank goodness he's a country, or else I would be short a boy," Arthur's voice hitched at the end in a way Matthew did not recognize at first, until he looked up and saw the tears forming in his former caretaker's eyes. Guilt plagued the Canadian as he cast his eyes back down to stare at his makeshift bed.

"I'm sorry," Matthew started, but was not given the chance to continue as Arthur cut in.

"Whatever for? However this happened, I am sure it was your bloody brother's idea." England tried covering up the wavering in his voice with his usual harsh tone, but he still had to wipe at his eyes before he gained control over his emotions once more.

"I should have been watching him better. I know better than anyone what hypothermia can do, and I left him alone. I didn't think it was that bad," Canada closed his eyes, not willing to meet England's, not knowing what they would tell him. "I keep forgetting that Alfred and I are very different. I forgot what happens when it snows in his southern states versus my provinces and I wasn't paying enough attention to the news. Maybe if I had been a better brother he would-"

"Easy, Matthew," England suddenly cut in, his arms moving to support Canada's back and chest, steadying him. Matthew opened his eyes and realized how worked up he had been, his breathing coming in short huffs and his cheeks feeling ablaze. "Just breathe. There we are." Matthew followed Arthur's lead and tried to match his slower pace, drawing in much needed oxygen, holding it, then letting it go to let in more. After a few minutes, with Canada's breathing now under control, England gently pushed against Matthew's chest and supported his back, laying the younger nation down.

"I think you still need much rest. I want to hear everything, but after you are feeling better, yeah?" Arthur tucked in the blanket loosely, making sure to keep the IV free, and mussed with Matthew's hair, donning a tired smile on his face. Matthew's eyes drooped, against his will, and he finally realized how exhausted he felt. After a minute of trying to fight off unconsciousness, it finally consumed him, and his body relaxed.

England sighed after his son's breathing evened out and ran a hand through his hair, then down his face.

"These two are going to be the death of me," he sighed and stood up to see if he could find the doctor.

* * *

><p>"...-54 fahrenheit? I didn't think it was that bad. No wonder it hurts so much," Matthew faded into the conversation that was taking place next to him, and he lay still, not wanting to interrupt what the two voices were discussing.<p>

"Matthew's capitals were some of the coldest. Your news is calling it 'record-breaking'."

"And Mattie has to deal with this almost every year. Crazy." Alfred, Matthew had finally awoken enough to recognize each voice, yawned, then hissed, the sound followed by sheets being moved.

"Bloody hell, Alfred, careful! We don't need you pulling out your IV on top of the frostbite and hypothermia," England scolded, and Canada was suddenly reminded of the predicament the two brothers had been in. A rush of relief and excitement ran through his body, and he opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the sun that was shining brightly through a nearby window. Canada lifted his arm to cover his eyes from the oppressing sun, and was greeted a moment later by England.

"Good to finally see you awake, Matthew," Arthur said, helping Matthew sit up after Canada's eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight.

"Alfred, you're awake," Matthew said lamely, his head now emitting a dull ache, and his senses not truly catching up to him.

"I am, and so are you. Great observation skills, there, Matt," Alfred teased, then yawned again. "So, what brings you back to the world of the conscious?"

"You, actually," Matthew grinned, "How are you feeling?"

"Like that time Captain America was found in the ice after his crash during World War II and was thawed. I'm still working on the thawed part, though," America lifted his hand and showed his brother the bound limb, trying to wriggle his fingers, but to no avail. He sighed and set it back on the bed.

"I got to see them change the bandages once. Looked kinda like I dipped them in lava, all black and blue. The doctors said my hands are goners, but they don't know who I am," Alfred smiled proudly, and Canada, now fully focused on his brother, and could see a tinge of purple on the tip of his brother's nose and cheeks. Matthew winced, knowing his brother would be in a world of pain if not for the drugs that were running in his system. "My feet, too. They said I wouldn't be able to walk again. I'll give it a week."

"You better not just 'give it a week'. You two are staying in bed and everyone is going to heal the right way. None of this 'hero' business you always go on about," England cut in, tired of America's careless attitude toward the whole situation.

"But-" Alfred started, but was interrupted by Canada's low, patient sigh.

"Al, he's right, you know. I'm sure you already know that you froze to death out there. I think giving into a few weeks of rest would be good for us all," Matthew looked up at England, who nodded in approval, then sat down on Canada's bed, a huff of air escaping.

"At least do it for your brother," England said after a moment of silence. "He might've withstood the conditions much better than you, but he's still in bad condition." Matthew frowned and rubbed at his cheek with the heel of his hand, which were bound in bandages, similar to Alfred. Canada thought for a moment and realized that his entire condition was probably similar to his brother's, although his feet did not seem to be as bad, from was he had gathered during his times of consciousness so far. He would have to wait and see when they took off the bandages again, whether or not his resistance to winter was truly more formidable.

"Fine. Whatever. But, I better get some ice-cream from this,"Alfred pouted, started the movements to cross his arms, but hesitated and let his arms drop loosely to his sides, fully aware of how useless they were at the moment.

"Ice-cream, after this ordeal? I was supremely hoping that we could stray far from the cold for a while, especially considering that half of your country went under a state of emergency because of it," England stated, exasperated by his son's insistence of doing what others would deem illogical.

"Actually, ice-cream does sound good," Canada smiled, the thought of a giant scoop of maple walnut ice-cream making his mouth water. England sighed and covered his face with his hands.

"What will I do with you two?" He asked rhetorically. Alfred let out a loud yawn, and moved to stretch his arms, but was stopped by a hand that had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"You should be careful not to move the IV," the person behind Alfred warned.

"Ah, Dr. Wilson, come to check up on the boys?" England stood up and greeted the doctor formally.

"I have, and it's good to see them both awake and thriving. Also, there are two men outside waiting for you, Mr. Kirkland," the doctor began flipping through his clipboard as Arthur gave his thanks and walked out of the door to meet the two who were waiting for him.

"Now, who wants to go first?" The doctor glanced up and switched his eyes between the two boys, waiting for a response.

"I volunteer Mattie. I've done this consciously already. It's his turn," Alfred pointed at his brother, a devious smile on his face, and Matthew stuck out his tongue, then nodded at the doctor.

"I'll be the brave one and go first, then. My cowardly brother is afraid of everything," Matthew teased, and heard Alfred harumph as the doctor made his way over, gathering a few supplies from a nearby cupboard first.

"It won't hurt," the doctor reassured, "But, there is a lot of damage, and it may be hard to look at." Dr. Wilson then set down the supplies on a table next to Canada's bed and began to unwrap Matthew's arms. Canada breathed slowly, calmly, bracing himself for what he would see underneath the bandages. He knew it was not going to be good, because he could not feel his fingers, and a light throb seemed to come from his hands, now that he focused on them.

"I already told your brother, and I will tell you, this is not as bad as it looks, but there is not much more we can do for your hands. Only time and healing can tell us whether or not we will have to do surgery," the doctor finished unwrapping Matthew's hand and walked over to a disposal to throw away the old gauze. This gave Matthew a few seconds to take in the damage. He sighed, half in relief, half in acceptance, that it was not as bad as he had thought. His fingers were swollen and purple, the ends turning into an almost black, and Matthew winced, knowing that if he were a human, those appendages would be gone.

"We are giving you medication through the IV at the moment to keep the pain at bay. You have second and third degree frostbite. Your hands will be unusable for some time. Your toes have a bit of frostbite, too, but not on such a high degree. Just be careful when walking, and keep them warm. Your nose, ears, and cheeks have a bit of frostbite as well, much like your brother's, and will take a good while to heal." The doctor spoke while he was checking each area, addressing it as he looked it over and applying medication where needed. Canada was just grateful that he did not have any blisters. Those were a pain to take care of, and he was too tired to deal with it.

"Now," the doctor moved onto rewrapping his hands, satisfied with everything, "Mr. Kirkland has agreed to take care of you two for the time it will take to heal. It is not necessary to stay hospitalized, as long as you take good care of yourself. I trust you to listen to him when necessary," Canada nodded, "I've already instructed him on caring for you two." The doctor then finished wrapping the silent Canadian's hands and gave him one last appraising look, before turning to Alfred, who had his eyes trained on his brother the whole time he was being treated.

"That goes double for you, Mr. Jones," the doctor warned, and Matthew snickered, knowing full well that Alfred probably already gave a good fight when he was told that England would be caring for them. He imagined his brother whining like a small child, crossing his arms and pouting, his bottom lip sticking out in such a childish manner, it looked almost pathetic coming from a man his age. No doubt he also received one of Arthur's famous 'talks', being chewed and spit out to the point of looking like ground beef.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alfred mumbled as the doctor checked on his IV and readjusted it, making Alfred wince and close his eyes.

"If you would stop moving around so much, this would not be an issue," the doctor muttered, obviously having already dealt with Alfred enough to know that reasoning and needles do not mix well with him.

"Well, why do I have to have this, anyway?" Alfred whined, trying for a counter attack.

"Because if you did not have this, Mr. Jones, then you would be dehydrated and in great, unnecessary pain." The doctor finished with the needle, then moved to unwrapping his patient's arms. Matthew watched with peaked interest, not knowing the full extent to which his brother was affected, and was both interested and ashamed. He wanted to know how his brother could handle the cold, and he needed to see the damage so he could rightly scold himself and sit in self-hate for not reaching him sooner. He knew the latter was wrong to do, but he also knew it had to be done so he could live with seeing his brother in the state he was in. It was his own fault that his brother was like this in the first place. At least, that's what Matthew truly believed, and it would take time and patience for him to see it any other way.

The doctor finished unwrapping his brothers arms and moved on to his feet, and Matthew inhaled as he took a good look at his brother. His hands were blackened and swollen, much like Matthew's, but the reach of frostbite had cut much deeper into Alfred, leaving his hands completely useless and immovable. His feet, once in view, were no better, and Canada felt guilt well up inside of his chest, threatening to spill over. He sucked in a deep breath, and steeled himself for any more damage that might have been done. The doctor did not disappoint. After finishing with unwrapping Alfred's feet, and looking them over, mentally noting the damage and progress that may have taken place, he moved onto removing Alfred's blanket and reveal his abdomen wrapped loosely in gauze, faint bruise-like splotches seeping out from under the bandages. Canada vaguely remembered reading the news about where the cold had caused the most damage in his brother's country. His southern states were not prepared for any type of snowfall, let alone the chilling temperatures they had to go through.

"Any better, doc?" Alfred asked, nonchalant attitude seeping through, trying to lessen the seriousness of the whole ordeal.

"Not good, but better," the doctor admitted, brushing his fingers over the exposed flesh on his brother's chest and stomach, and letting out a confused huff. "Just baffling," He muttered, then backed away, grabbing the nearby gauze and began to rewrap the abused skin. As this was being done, Arthur decided then to walk through the door.

"I hope you'll be ready to leave soon. That was our escort. We'll be heading back to one of Matthew's main households, outside of Toronto," England said, walking over to sit next to Canada and watch the doctor make fine work of wrapping Alfred.

"I will retrieve the release forms as soon as-" The doctor began, but was waved off by England.

"No need. Everything is already taken care of," England answered, then continued when he saw the doctor's prominent frown and overall look of disapproval. "But I greatly thank you for your help. I can take the boys from here, though. I am their legal guardian, and I know what's best," England looked between Canada and America, and smiled when America gazed at his father figure, not liking being under the command of someone else, and rebellion sparking dangerously in Alfred's eyes. "And I have everything I need to know right here," England then picked up a notebook from a table sitting next to Canada's bed. The doctor nodded, then finished taping Alfred's new wrappings into place.

"Let me gather the supplies you'll need, then."

* * *

><p>"I can walk just fine, you know," Alfred pouted, crossing his arms and wincing as he aggravated the hole where his IV had previously been. England sighed, having heard this multiple times before, and knowing this will not be the end of it.<p>

"Do you want another show of what happened back in the room?" England snapped, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Alfred had tried, and failed, to stand on his own, in the few minutes between England departing with the doctor to retrieve the wheelchairs. Alfred had not only fallen, but had ripped out his IV, but, thankfully it had come out cleanly, leaving only minor bruising. How was he going to deal with these two? Canada, England noticed, had remained deceptively silent, not saying a word as he was ushered into a wheelchair and pushed out of the hospital. England watched him as they reached the car, and the boys were helped into it, Alfred trying to push off attempts at helping, but Canada staying quiet, staring straight forward, not even letting his movements give away what he was thinking. England pondered what could be going through his son's head, but was pulled from his thoughts when his agents turned to him and said the car was ready, and they would meet him at the planned destination. England nodded at the two, giving him his thanks, and was secretly relieved to be rid of them for a while, their presence obstructing his time alone with the boys. His government found them necessary in 'today's time and age', but England just found them rather aggravating. Thankfully he was only given them when traveling abroad. And even then, it was only when there was turmoil within the country he was in. Apparently the recent weather had called for them.

England climbed into the driver's side of the vehicle and was welcomed by a wave of warmth, staving off the frigid cold of the outside. He went into drive, remembering the laws of the road for the country he was in, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So, Iggy," America started, interrupted by a yawn and England mumbling at Alfred's nickname, "are you really taking care of us? I mean, that sounds kinda… I don't know, lame. Don't you have country stuff you have to do?"

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact. But," England looked into his rearview mirror, and caught Alfred's gaze, "I like you two and would hate to find your dumb arses wandering around in the frigid cold again. Mind telling me what happened, while we're on the subject?" England changed his tones quickly, from accusatory to scolding. Alfred did not answer, more for the fact that he did not want to out of rebellion, and less for the fact that his memory of the whole ordeal was sketchy at best. England switched his stern gaze to Canada, whose silence was both unnerving and frustrating for England. Matthew, however, did not take his eyes off of the passing landscape outside, staying as silent as ever.

"Matthew," England tried, his tone dropping to more concern. When Canada did not answer, he tried again, a little louder, "Matthew." This finally drew Canada's attention from the passing trees long enough for him to meet Arthur's eyes in the rearview mirror. England turned his attention back to the road, and patiently repeated himself.

"Matthew, what happened? I have had to piece together the story from the medics and your half-delusional brother." Alfred sighed, not remembering much from before he arrived at the hospital and, although acting annoyed, was interested himself. Canada moved his eyes to look back out the window.

"It was my fault. I left Alfred alone when I knew he should never have been." And it was the self-deprecating tone that made England change his whole demeanor to try to save his son from his own thoughts.

"Now, lad, you and I both know this is not your blame," England started, but was cut off by Canada giving a loud sigh and closing his eyes.

"I'm tired," Matthew answered rather harshly, and leaned his head against the window, showing he wanted the discussion to end. England let it drop, leaving an uncomfortable tension in the air, and focused on driving, hoping time would help Canada return to calm. It must be the effects of hypothermia, England thought, his mind wandering as the roads began to meld together. After another twenty minutes of driving, England spoke up again.

"Is it warm enough for you two?" Arthur asked, but was greeted with silence. Curiosity caused him to turn around and found the two brothers fast asleep, one laying on top of the other, Canada still leaning against the window, his arm wrapped protectively around his brother, who had fallen into a deep slumber on his brother's lap. England turned back to the road, a smile in his eyes and fell into the content silence of the car, not daring to wake them. He did, however, pull out his phone, on impulse, and took a photo of the two boys, wanting to remember this moment of peace while it lasted, trying not to remember why they were there in the first place. Some things about those two never change, England thought as he stored the phone and settled into the long drive still ahead of him.


	5. Silence for Ottawa

Author's note: It's snowing! I am super psyched! Well, it's kind of snowing. Anyhow, this story is based off of the shooting in Ottawa that happened a few weeks ago. I wrote this right after I heard about, and did as much research as was available at the time. If anything is wrong, or in any way offensive, please tell me and I will change it. Thank you.

* * *

><p>"Sir, a phone call." A voice broke through Canada's reverie and he turned to one of the officers that was covering the area. Canada took the phone without saying a word and put it to his ear, expecting to hear from another politician, but instead heard a voice he did not realise he had wanted to hear.<p>

"Bro, Mattie, are you there?" The voice, his twin brother, America, sounded frantic, and Canada could not really blame him.

"Yeah, Al, I'm here," Canada said, turning his eyes to a small pile of flowers beginning to form on the sidewalk.

"Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? I'm going to come out there-"

"Woah, hold on there. Alfred, I'm fine."

"But-"

"Al, everything is fine. I'm not hurt…." Canada became silent as he saw a few armed guards pass by him and he began to walk away from the parliament building, not wanting to be near the cause of his inner turmoil any longer. His stomach felt like it was doing somersaults and he could not take his mind away from what the news was beginning to broadcast. "I wasn't even in the area at the time."

"I'm coming over." Alfred said, giving a tone that dared for an argument. Canada sighed, not wanting to deal with his frantic brother on top of the media and local cops. Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment as a police officer approached him and updated him on incoming news. Canada nodded, then winced when he head his brother yelling from the other end of the line. He thanked the officer, who stared at the phone curiously, but left without asking any questions. Canada pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut at the headache he could feel forming in the back of his head. He pulled the phone back to his ear, expecting to hear his brother yelling still, but all he heard was silence. Matthew waited for a minute, knowing the phone was still on from the sounds of shuffling on the other end.

"Alfred?" Matthew finally asked, his patience already thin, and his brother's antics not on the top of his list of things to deal with.

"Yeah, Mattie. I'm still here. Just waiting for you to get done. Are you sure you're alright?" Alfred asked quietly, his tone more subdued when he realized his yelling would not help his brother.

"Al, as a person, I'm fine, but," Canada opened his eyes and glanced around at his surroundings, making sure no one would overhear his conversation, "as a country, I feel like a wreck. This isn't the first time it's happened, either, and my people are showing a brave face, but they are truly scared. These are not something that have happened before. The media is already calling it a terrorist attack, and I can't disagree with them, especially after I found out there was a casualty. People are afraid it's going to happen again, and I can feel every bit of their worry. My parliament is taking it well enough, though. The government can't stop for one attack." Canada let out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure after spilling his emotions into every word he spoke. Alfred, having been quiet and patient while his brother vented, moved on the other end of the line, adjusting the phone to his other ear.

"Al, I thought things were getting better." Canada whispered, just loud enough for his brother to hear, his voice suddenly weak and his head feeling light. The other end of the line stayed silent, and Canada almost began to think that his brother had hung up on him, but he heard a swoosh of breath from the other end of the line and knew his brother was thinking.

"It is, Mattie. But some things you simply cannot help. Some people are too far gone, some events were meant to be, but none of it has killed us yet."

"Yeah, but what about the victims of these crimes?! They can't just be-"

"Matthew," Alfred interrupted in a calm, patient voice, willing his brother to calm simply through his words, "Canada," Alfred put mental emphasis on his brother's name, "You are one of the strongest countries in the world. You have been through and involved in enough battle and bloodshed to compete with a few of the older countries. You are a strong fighter. Heck, you're a better sniper than me by far, although I'll never tell anyone else that." Alfred smiled when he heard a huff of air signifying a laugh from the other end of the line. "Your people are strong. You are strong. You have a wonderful rich history and country. These small attacks mean nothing in the long run. Yes, people were hurt and killed, but you cannot let that take over you. You have to take it in stride and let it make you stronger. Let it bring your people closer together. And, I need you to know, I'll always be here for you. I'll back you up and protect you in any way I can for however long I live. I promise." Alfred shifted the phone again to his other ear and waited patiently for Canada's response, letting him soak in all that he had been told. Alfred needed to be the patience and calm that he knew Canada was not feeling right now. After a long silence, a slow exhale from the other end of the line signified that Matthew was still with him.

"Thanks, Al," Canada said, just above a whisper, his voice seeming to have lost all emotion and energy.

"Anytime, bro," America answered back in the same tone. "Are you sure you don't want me to come over? I'm sure I can help with something?"

"No, Al, but thanks. I know you have the virus to deal with right now, with it recently spreading to New York. I'm sure you have just as many politicians and media to deal with. But, after this all blows over, we need to get out somewhere secluded and stare at the clouds. Deal?" Canada's voice gained momentum and he could now feel, under the veil of panic and fear, a strength that he could not feel before, coming forth from his country. He knew his people were strong. He never doubted them. One moment of weakness does not make for a lifetime of failure.

"Yeah. That sounds great. Oh, hey, I gotta go, but I'm going to call back again this time tomorrow, alright? If you need anything, call me anytime. I don't care. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Love ya, bro. Stay strong." And with that, America hung up the phone. Canada held the mobile up to his ear for a few seconds, letting the white noise around him come back into focus. Finally, he put the phone away and turned back to the parliament building, suddenly ready for any more questions and concerns thrown his way. He could do this. His people were strong and so was he. And nothing was going to change that.


End file.
